


Bedtime Story

by ChibiTabatha



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Blood, Blood and Injury, Gen, Injury, Scars, Stanuary, Trouble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2019-03-02 14:24:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13320021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChibiTabatha/pseuds/ChibiTabatha
Summary: "So the kids can't sleep. Not like I have to tell them a story or somethin'."





	Bedtime Story

**Author's Note:**

> This is something small I put together for week 2 of Stanuary. Maybe I'm projecting here a little bit, but I love hearing stories about scars. No matter how silly or intense they are. There's not graphic mentions of anything, cause let's face it. Stan's a softie.

“Grunkle Stan, you have a lot of scars,” his niece's soft voice murmured.   
  
“None of them are worthy of a bedtime story kiddo. Just shut yer eyes and go to sleep, ‘kay?” he ran a hand through her hair.   
  
“C’mmon Grunkle Stan, just one?” smaller hands grabbed onto his larger hand. A soft touch tickled the scar tissue on the side of his hand.   
  
“Kid, they’re not good stories,” giving her hands a soft squeeze, he stood from the bed.   
  
A second soft voice piped up from across the room, “We’ve experienced worse, just tell us the tamest one.”   
  
A gravelly sigh escaped him, “Well you guys already know about my shoulder.”   
  
Mabel grabbed his pant leg, “Did it get infected?”  
  
“We just know you had the burn from the panel,” Dipper added.  
  
He sat back down on Mabel’s bed, Dipper softly padded over with his pillow and blanket. Once his nephew settled in next to his twin he ruffled their hair, “I’m not telling you about the burn, but I can tell you about some of the numerous scars on my hands.”  
  
The younger siblings shifted and looked up at him with big eyes. “Ready when you are,” their voices chimed at the same time.  
  
Putting his fist up to his mouth, he cleared his throat, “Alright if you kids get nightmares you can’t blame me,” the kids nodded vigorously. “You kids ever been to Columbia?” they shook their heads. “Well it’s hot, humid. Sometimes rainy. Good coffee,” he cleared his throat again. “Anyways, I was trying to break into this man’s house. See he was pushing on our turf so I was getting sent to scare him a bit. You know, nothing too serious,” he shifted slightly on the bed. “So I break into this guy’s place right, and it's the middle of the night or whatever. So it’s a lot colder than I thought it was going to be. So I pick the lock, and my hands are going a bit numb ‘cause of the cold. Get inside and try to be as quiet as possible right? So of course I hit a table and knock over this guy’s vase. Of course I try to catch it and the thing just shatters into a million pieces.” A soft gasp from Mabel. “So I stand perfectly still, and not a sound comes from inside the house. So I start picking up pieces of this shattered ceramic vase. Ceramic is sharp kids, never pick it up with your bare hands. So of course I slice up my hands real bad, blood is dripping all over the place. Looked like a scene out of a bad horror movie. Of course the handle jiggles behind me and the distinct click of the lock. I panic, throw the pieces of the ceramic towards the door. The guy comes through the door and his shoes crunch over the ceramic. I panic, I didn’t think it through properly. So I dive through the nearest window, slicing up my hands and arms a bunch more. That’s what the scar on the side of my hand is from. Jumping through a window. Took forever to get the blood out of the car seats,” he shrugged his shoulders a bit.  
  
Two sets of sleepy eyes looked up at him, “I think there’s,” a yawn, “more to it than that,” Dipper blinked at him.  
  
“There’s gotta be more,” Mabel’s yawn punctuated her sentence.  
  
“Yeah well even if there was more, you’ll have to harrass me another time. You two ankle biters need to hit the hay. Night you little rascals,” he tousled their hair before quietly standing. Two murmured goodnights sleepily sounded from the same bed as he shut the door behind him. Of course he left out chunks of the story. He wasn’t going to tell them the guy was shooting at him and he had a bullet scar from the whole debacle. They could live with the obvious scars on his hands and arms from jumping through the window.   
  
That’s the trouble with kids though, they’ll try and find out more later. Sure he got into more trouble than them at their age, but that’s a story for another time.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys liked this and keep an eye out for more Stanuary stuff on the way.


End file.
